Is time wrinkled? Does kairos matter more than chronos?
I know, of course, that she is not the first one to postulate folds in time. But the older I get, the more evidence I see of such things.
My father really misses my mom around the Fourth of July. She enjoyed the holiday, and she and dad most often came to our house so that we could go see fireworks with the kids. I do like fireworks, but Dad is right; they are more fun when you have kids around.
My dad talked a lot about my mom. He was married to her for fifty-three years before she died, and I thought for sure that he would get married again soon after her passing. I was wrong. The reason, he says, is that the women who show interest in him "that way" are too bossy. This is the same father who says he misses Mom's "timely" reminders."
What I miss is her presence, and like my dad, I feel her absence most during the holidays. My grandsons got to see fireworks for the first time, and I remember going to the Wauseon, Ohio fireworks display when my son was not quite two and his sister was seven months old. The fireworks didn't bother my daughter, but my son did NOT like the noise, and he sure let us know about it! I remember my mom holding my son trying to quiet him, and I marvel how things have changed in twenty-five years. Can it really be so long ago?
My daughter has, in some respects, taken over the role I played with my mom. She is no longer a little girl; I think I have come to grips with that. But now she watches out for my comfort more than her own. She takes pleasure in doing things for me that she knows I would not do for myself. When I was younger, I did this by taking my mom out to eat every payday. My daughter did the manicure/pedicure thing.
It doesn't seem that long ago that I did those things for my mom. It does not seem so long ago that she held my son and comforted him. She has been with the Lord for nine years now, and the Fourth of July before she died, when my teenage children saw to her comfort as we sat outside for a fireworks display seems like yesterday.
It is comforting to think that time is connected in wrinkles. It keeps the people that we love alive. I am convinced that time-line time does not matter in the long run, although it matters what you do with the time allotted to you. Those memories of times with my mom were spent in real time, kairos, where the ticking of the clock did not matter at all. I think she would be (or is, since she is one of the great cloud of witnesses) pleased with the memories we have of her, pleased that she was a faithful servant. And I am thankful for the little everyday wrinkles in time that let me catch glimpses of her until I see her again in heaven.
I know, of course, that she is not the first one to postulate folds in time. But the older I get, the more evidence I see of such things.
My father really misses my mom around the Fourth of July. She enjoyed the holiday, and she and dad most often came to our house so that we could go see fireworks with the kids. I do like fireworks, but Dad is right; they are more fun when you have kids around.
My dad talked a lot about my mom. He was married to her for fifty-three years before she died, and I thought for sure that he would get married again soon after her passing. I was wrong. The reason, he says, is that the women who show interest in him "that way" are too bossy. This is the same father who says he misses Mom's "timely" reminders."
What I miss is her presence, and like my dad, I feel her absence most during the holidays. My grandsons got to see fireworks for the first time, and I remember going to the Wauseon, Ohio fireworks display when my son was not quite two and his sister was seven months old. The fireworks didn't bother my daughter, but my son did NOT like the noise, and he sure let us know about it! I remember my mom holding my son trying to quiet him, and I marvel how things have changed in twenty-five years. Can it really be so long ago?
My daughter has, in some respects, taken over the role I played with my mom. She is no longer a little girl; I think I have come to grips with that. But now she watches out for my comfort more than her own. She takes pleasure in doing things for me that she knows I would not do for myself. When I was younger, I did this by taking my mom out to eat every payday. My daughter did the manicure/pedicure thing.
It doesn't seem that long ago that I did those things for my mom. It does not seem so long ago that she held my son and comforted him. She has been with the Lord for nine years now, and the Fourth of July before she died, when my teenage children saw to her comfort as we sat outside for a fireworks display seems like yesterday.
It is comforting to think that time is connected in wrinkles. It keeps the people that we love alive. I am convinced that time-line time does not matter in the long run, although it matters what you do with the time allotted to you. Those memories of times with my mom were spent in real time, kairos, where the ticking of the clock did not matter at all. I think she would be (or is, since she is one of the great cloud of witnesses) pleased with the memories we have of her, pleased that she was a faithful servant. And I am thankful for the little everyday wrinkles in time that let me catch glimpses of her until I see her again in heaven.
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